Thunder and the Writer
by Dream the Fox
Summary: Thunder once again has a little chat with the Writer about some things.. And a certain evil Pokémon comes back to life...


"You outta be ashamed, Writer."

_Easy for you to say…_

"Why start something you ain't going to finish anyway?" the small mouse asked, clicking his teeth together. "It just isn't right. Nor is it perfessional."

_I know, I know._

He waved a finger up at the sky, shaking his head slowly. Lately, the land he called home had been boring. There wasn't much to do now that he was back from that crazy adventure of his, when he went to try and get back home after getting lost, and running into lots of trouble.

Thunder the shiny Pikachu rocked back on his back paws. He was standing in a meadow, and if other Pokemon were to pass by, they think he was talking to himself. Or better yet, the sky.

No one would ever guess who he was really talking to.

_Ya know, you do kind of owe me for the escape from that evil little Pokemon, Thunder._

"Yeah, but what months ago!" Thunder protested.

_There would have been something new up, but I've been busy._

"Now you're just making ecuses."

_Says the little Pikachu that does all the time in my cross-over story of Conker and Pokemon._

"Ouch."

_But, eh, I guess you're right. I shouldn't let writers block take over for too long._

"Why don't you Roleplay or something?"

_No one ever wants to do that anymore, so it's hard to get ideas for stories for that reason._

Thunder shook his head, a small chuckle could be heard from his throat. "Funny Writer."

_Well, you're in a bit of a mood today, Thunder._

The little Pikachu smiled brightly at that. He put his fronts paws behind his head. Ah Writers. Always thinking way too much about things.

"Don't worry Writer. We all forgive you, ya know? From what I've heard, you're tiding up the detail."

_I guess._

"So, does this mean there'll be more stories with me in it?" the electric-type Pokemon asked.

There was a long silence for a moment, and the Pokemon thought the Writer had all gone and left him alone. But then he heard the 'voice' again.

_Well, maybe. I dunno yet. It depends if I get any ideas for anything Pokemon related or not… I might do an alter ending to your adventure in Bad Fur Day, but old Ghosty is on my ass._

Thunder to himself remembering Ghostly the Hunter. He never was one that liked him. "I take it he hates Writers who bring people back to life, huh?"

_It isn't very hard, you know, Thunder. Since I'm the writer, it's my story so I can do what I wish. However, bring people back to life… It takes the right.. Explantion._

The Pikachu raised an eyebrow at that, black eyes staring up at the sky in wonder. "Cloned?"

_Out of question, my little Pikachu._

"Oh," Thunder beamed, once again rocking on his back paws. Cloning was out of question, huh? Then how was someone like a Writer supposed to bring someone back from the dead? A sudden thought appeared to the small Pokemon.

"Say, Writer, you wouldn't bring back that crazy Snivy.. Would ya?"

….

Thunder stared up at the sky, and waited. And waited. And waited some more. He frowned and put his front paws on his hips.

"Writer, you still there?"

_Mmm._

"Is that Snivy going to be coming back?" he asked once again. He had a tingle of suspicion in his normally care-free voice.

The writer didn't reply for some time.

"You can't bring him back."

_I don't know what you're talking about. How can I bring him back?_

Thunder looked way past lost and confused. "You just said writers can bring bad guys back if their ex-plan-a-shun is believeable. And in this place anything is, right? So, the only way you couldn't bring him back is if…"

He stared upwards, the seemed dim, caught out. Thunder's eyes widened.

"Aw no. You already brought him back, didn't you?"

"Sir, you're hurt.. You shouldn't be—OW!"

The young guard was tossed away by a robotic Vive Whip. He slammed into the stone wall, and fell back onto the stone covered around. He shivered in fear at the other, and the other ranking guards did the same; all eyes were wide in shock and fear.

Leaning over a desk, in a dank, dark chamber that had markings of a tortuous underground lab, the Snivy Professor sat, scarred and broom in his new hover chair.

He glared upwards, and the other Pokemon guards trembling behind him, cringed and look for a place to take cover.

"You where a fool.." he sang in his raspy little voice. "To bring me back…"

Somewhere else, a hooded figure shut the labtop and sat back.

_You know you should really stop typing when the characters start threatening you…_


End file.
